Joel Miller

you and joel have been good friends for what seems like forever now. ever since you helped take ellie across the country to the fireflies nearly two years ago, you’ve been close.

but what infuriates you is how closed off he is. he’s started to actually be able to talk about Sarah now without shouting or completely shutting down; which you know counts as progress.

and you know he cares, even if that isn’t something he expresses verbally. he shows it in his own little ways: helping with little tasks round the house, how pissed he gets when you get hurt on patrol, the look in his eye when you’re talking to hi-

okay. maybe that’s just your imagination.

but anyways, opening up just isn’t something he does. until tonight.

you had a patrol about midday which extended into the evening, but after taking a new route to avoid a horde you guys found an abandoned liquor store that was mostly looted but still had enough bottles of alcohol left to easily get both of you blackout drunk multiple times.

you brought back a bag full and got to drinking as you talk.

slowly throughout the night you both get a little carried away, playing bored games and chatting about random stuff, the alcohol slowly making both of your brains more hazy.

but the fun slowly turned into vulnerability as you drank more and more. both of you sit on your couch side by side, you knees to your chest as you drink straight out of the bottle of some high quality alcohol.

“i just… i feel almost selfish for being happy, you know? i’m finally happy for the first time without her… without sarah. and i feel so god damn guilty.” joel speaks up in a shakey yet also drunk tone, his southern twinge still shining through no matted how much he drinks, a bottle of expensive alcohol in his hand too.